


Garden

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I suck at titles. </p><p>"The rain is gradually soaking his hair as he sits, cross-legged, on the grass in his aunt's garden. She'd let him use the house when she went on holiday because she knew how much he loved her garden when he was younger. It's winter now, though, and all the flowers have died away, leaving only thorns and skeletal trees that seem all too fitting for his mood. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Garden

Jehan knows he isn't alone- his friends love him and his family is decent enough. It's not even that they don't understand him; Grantaire shares his melancholy, Combeferre shares his love of language and learning, and Enjolras his passion for protecting others. But on days like today... none of them  _get_ it. 

The rain is gradually soaking his hair as he sits, cross-legged, on the grass in his aunt's garden. She'd let him use the house when she went on holiday because she knew how much he loved her garden when he was younger. It's winter now, though, and all the flowers have died away, leaving only thorns and skeletal trees that seem all too fitting for his mood. 

 _If I were a bird,_ he thinks,  _I'd fly to the top of that tree, look around for a few minutes, just to say goodbye, then fly away and never see any of this again. Maybe I'd just start flying and not stop until I die of exhaustion. Just to get away._

He doesn't know why he feels this bad today. The depression went away when he was 17 and started dating Combeferre, but then... Combeferre's been away for a few days and he hasn't felt like seeing anyone else, so...

_I'm not alone,_

_I have my words, I have_

_Thoughts that drift over fingers_

_And join up the constellations between the freckles_

_On the back of my hand..._

_  
_"That's good." Jehan starts at the voice, not aware he was speaking aloud, and certainly not aware that he wasn't alone. Grantaire is sitting next to him.

"I let myself in, you said your aunt didn't mind us all using the house and you seemed sad last week and Combeferre said you might be here... we haven't seen you in days, Jehan."

"Oh. Sorry," Jehan can't really bring himself to care. He's alone with his friends, he's alone here... at least here he isn't bothering anyone. He traces the remains of the note Combeferre wrote on his wrist in Sharpie before he left- just the faintest outline is left. The melancholy hasn't been this bad in a while, not to the point of longing for a way out, of longing to fall into the pond at the bottom of his aunt's garden and feel the cold water close above him and fill his lungs and-

"Jehan?" He hadn't realised he was crying, but now Grantaire is wiping tears from his cheeks and pulling him upright and they go into the house and Grantaire deposits Jehan on the sofa, wrapping an arm around him and stroking his hair.

"Brain doing things again?"

"I want to leave. Like...  _leave_ leave." Concern is etched into Grantaire's features but now that Jehan is talking he can't stop, "I just want... just want to drown myself. Not even metaphorically, I literally just want to throw myself into the water and feel it in my lungs and feel myself die so that I know this pain will end and..."

"Shh, Jehan, it's ok..."

Jehan continues to mutter to himself under his breath, too quiet for Grantaire to really hear, until he eventually falls asleep with his head in his friend's lap, and when Combeferre arrives at the house straight from the airport he just smiles gratefully at Grantaire and begins to plait Jehan's hair.


End file.
